Life in the Fast Food Lane
by ramblingsofamadspinster
Summary: Emily is sick and tired of being treated like a second-class citizen for working in McDonalds'. She dreams of being a respected and highly published journalist. But a stranger in a pinstripe suit and really great hair, might just change her mind.


_Ugh. Working late on Christmas Eve should be illegal,_ I thought. I'd been working since 3pm that afternoon, one glance at the clock told me it was 9 o'clock. _One hour til closing time. And then at least another hour and a half until I can go home, I might be in time to see Santa._

A beeping in my ear broke my reverie. I pressed the button on the headset and spoke aloud for the first time in half an hour. "Good evening, Can I take your order please?'

"Big mac luv'" the customer replied in a somewhat brash tone. I glanced up at the TV on the wall which showed a CCTV image of the customer. He was sitting in a once-white ford Transit van, was middle-aged and balding, he had tattoos up and down both arms and had a menacing looking tattoo of a snake rearing its head over the collar of his grubby t-shirt. _Brilliant. Just what I needed. Another sexist, rude, pig-headed, fatty sneaking-out-of-the-house-to-get-his-fast-food-fix -after-spending-a-day-on-the-diet-his-wife-organis ed-for-him, thinking he has the right to treat me like shit._

I inhaled deeply and put on my best telephone voice; polite, posh and with a hint of sarcasm. "Is that a meal sir?"

"Nah"

"Okay, is that your order complete?"

"Nah, gimme a coke an' all. Actually, make it a meal luv." _Oh for Christ's sake._

"That's fine sir, would you like it as a large meal?" _stupid question_

"Yeah, go' on then"

"If you order is correct on the screen, please drive to the first window" and he drove off without as much as a glance at the screen at the ordering booth. I knew I had exactly eight seconds before he arrived at the window, knowledge that only comes after spending 4 out of 5 shifts a week on the drive thru'. I caught sight of my reflection in the window, _God, I look awful. I need time off. _My eyes appeared to sink into their sockets, I had dark bruise-like shadows curved underneath each one. My skin looked grey and was so transparent you could almost see my veins.

Six seconds after the customer left the booth, I opened the window and tried to re-arrange my face into some sort of smile. _I hate my job, I hate my job._

"Hello," I said two seconds later when the gruff-looking, 'ard-man' appeared at the window. "It's £4.69 to pay please."

The man thrust a £5 note into my hand without even acknowledging my existence. "31p change for you Sir," I said whilst dropping the change into his outstretched palm, "If you'd like to drive to the next window to collect your order" and the foul man and the dusty old transit van were gone before I could say "Merry Christmas"

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of wiping down the walls, sweeping and mopping the floors, and scrubbing the grills. Eventually, at quarter to twelve, other 3 staff members and I had finished. We had congregated outside the front doors, whilst the manager locked up and set the alarms.

"Right. That's it, any of you in Boxing Day?" Jess said as she turned around, flicking her long blonde ponytail over shoulder as she did so.

"Nope! I'm off til' New Year's Eve!" Replied Chris, the burliest bloke I had ever seen on my side of the counter.

"Yeah I'm on a close again, start at 4" said tiny, mouse-like Jane

"Open" I said with a grimace.

"Ouch," the other three chorused.

"Yeah. It's not that bad though, the store opens at 9 so I start at 7:30"

"I'm off home," said Jess walking towards her car. "Merry Christmas" She shouted over her shoulder without breaking her stride.

"D'you wanna lift Em?" Jane asked.

"Nah, it's alright I only live across the road" I replied. "Have a good Christmas, see you soon."

"See ya later! Merry Christmas."

I strode off down the road, my light brown hair spraying behind her in the wind, my earphones blasting The Beach Boys. I like to listen to the Beach boys, especially in the winter because the happy melodies spark my imagination of sitting on a beach in California sipping ice tea and watching surfers, when in reality I'm walking home in the dead of night on Christmas Eve after doing a 9 hour shift in McDonald's.

_I need a new job. Pronto._ I thought as I strolled across the road in the dead of night pulling hard on the cigarette in my mouth. Nicotine made everything better, made everything easier to deal with.

_She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't hear the noise. A noise so peculiar and other-worldly, that had she heard it, she would have run home. It was a strange whirring and clattering noise similar to that of a car engine that won't start on a cold Monday morning. She also didn't see the strange blue box that seemed to appear out of nowhere on the corner of her street. Nor did she see the tall, skinny man in a long brown overcoat with a mess of dark brown hair on his head as he burst through the door._

_Well, okay maybe she did see him, but only when he ran past her with a strange beeping contraption in his hand. _

_Drunk on Christmas Eve,_ I thought to myself. _Wish I could join you mate._

Then all of a sudden, the man froze in mid-step about fifty yards in front of me and span around to face me.

_'Kay, bit creepy, maybe I don't want to drink with you._

"Sorry" the man burst out, "I was wondering if you could help me."

"Erm, I dunno, what did you want help with?" I replied feeling slightly scared.

"Could you tell me what day it is?"

"It's Christmas Eve mate, how much have you had?" I said half-laughing, and half kind of freaked out.

"Christmas Eve? Is it really? That came around fast didn't it? Erm, what year again?"

"Bloody hell, it must have been some party! 2012!"

"Right, 2012, that's a good year. London Olympics, they were fun. I went back and did it twice…"

I started to walk off, thinking it's too late and too close to Christmas to be listening to some madman on the street.

"Oh wait, sorry, uh, there was something else I wanted to ask," the stranger called to my retreating back and jogged to catch up with me and blocked my path.

"Well as long as it's not, 'Where am I?' then fire away!" I replied chuckling to myself. I looked up to see the man had arched one of his dark eyebrows and was staring quizzically at me.

"Well…" he said lifting his right hand up to scratch the back of his neck. I sighed heavily

"Cliff Bay, Kent, England, United Kingdom, Europe, Northern Hemisphere, Earth, the Universe. Does that help?"

"Oh yes, thanks" replied the man with a maniacal grin plastered to his face.

"okay, well, here you go," I said handing him a card for a local taxi firm because there was no way this guy was going to be able to find his own way home, "Merry Christmas."

"Yes. Well, you too. Merry Christmas and a very happy New Year. 2013, what a corker. Bit cold, oh and the Royal baby, what a cutie!" And I turned away from the madman with the crazy-wide grin still on his face, and walked the rest of the journey home.


End file.
